


1AM Me and You

by rosedolores



Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, First Kiss, M/M, Thor is 17 Loki 15, Thor is head over heels for Loki, very slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 20:30:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18239837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosedolores/pseuds/rosedolores
Summary: Thor gets into a fight in school, and later that night Loki sneaks into his bedroom to visit him.





	1AM Me and You

**Author's Note:**

> Please Read  
> \- mentions of Thor having sex with a girl  
> \- underage drinking  
> \- this is smthg really slow and kinda quiet not really action packed sorry, watch me write a hundred pages of them doing absolutely nothing just talking and kissing lmao I'm boring
> 
> Unbetad I'm just a lonely piece of hot cheeto. Kudos and comments make me all 🧡🧡🧡🧡

Loki finds Thor in the bathroom, leaning over the sink washing his face, his bulk hunching down, spitting out water and blood. What a big fucking mess.

“There really wasn’t any need for that,” says Loki as he shuts the door and leans against it. He can still hear the bustling whole of the students even like this, but soon the bell will ring annoyingly shrill, chairs will scrape against the floor, teachers will do roll call, present, present, present. Loki and Thor, absent, absent. Thor will be here until a teacher finds his hiding spot, a wounded animal in its black and white tiles den. Loki will stay with him until then, he thinks. He picks the door with his nail, his hand digging into his back as he leans back harder, pushing his weight.

Readying himself for when Thor turns to him with his mouth split in two places, his brow ripped open in a small gash, bruises already forming on his jaw and cheekbone. They will be black by the evening.  Loki’s eyes slip down on his bloody shirt, the neckline sopping wet with water, down to his hands that are still gripping the porcelain sink, knuckles red and irritated, whitening out the minute Thor sees him eye his hands and hardens his grip. At Loki’s shaky inhale he lets go.

“They started it,” he says, voice dulled. He is still angry, then.

 _They started it_. A sentence Thor will have to repeat many times today, Loki doesn’t doubt it.

“It didn’t have anything to do with you,” answers Loki, taking the three steps to him, the copper smell hitting him harder and harder. He rips out some paper towels and soaks them under cold water from the tap. Thor watches his every move, detached.

He should get into a better headspace, and _soon_ , because he will have to explain some things, and not just to Loki.

Loki pushes at his chest until Thor gets what he wants and leans back against the sink, stretching out his legs, his height dropping lower. He is still coiled tight like a spring. After all this, and the adrenalin still runs high in Thor, it wasn’t enough for him to tire him out, and now he has to endure the rippling under his skin that even Loki feels under his palm.

“I only told them to pick on their own size, not on a fucking freshman,” Thor says as Loki grabs his face and pulls him down, jabbing the towel hard against his brow twice, then pressing it down. Thor hisses and shuts his eyes closed. His lashes are still wet.

“That fucking freshman can take care of himself, Thor,” Loki thumbs Thor’s jaw, so strong, so tender with beating.

When Thor opens his eyes to look at him, Loki takes the bloody towel from his brow and drops it into the sink, takes a fresh one. Under the tap, back to his brow.

He deliberately avoids Thor’s gaze.

“What, just let them bully you all they want?” Thor asks, pulling his mouth. Even his lips will be bruised, the blood welling up there too. Loki takes a new towel, under the tap, press to the lips. At least this shuts Thor up.

“I could have handled them,” says Loki. It would have taken more time, true, but it would have been more subtle also. More rewarding. Not landing Thor in possible suspension, a guaranteed grounding for at least a week. Loki looks back at his brow. Not leaving injuries that will scar.

Thor wraps his big hand around his wrist, his hot touch a painful contrast to the cold water dribbling from the towel, pulling him away from his mouth, “I know. But I didn’t want you to,” he says, his jaw tight. He opens his mouth to say something else, but the bell cuts him off.

Loki frees himself and steps back, gathers the soaked towels to dump them. They could go on like this forever, Loki telling him not to do something, and Thor doing it anyway, simply because he _wants to._

Loki knows why, he understands. He saw him grow up, he knows his family, he _sees_ Thor. Thor was not born so the world could try and stop him. Loki looks at him now, in the shitty fluorescent light of a high school bathroom, his shirt bloodied and wet and torn, beaten up like some dog, and he is still solid, he still stands firm and something in him glows, something that will never be smothered, and Loki will go blind and mad with the brilliance of it all.

The world could lean on Thor’s shoulder and he would bear it.

Loki sighs, “You only made things worse.”

Thor furrows his brows. The cut opens up again. “I didn’t. Now they know I will go after them if they try anything again.”

Loki wants to scream and stomp and punch and call him a hundred kinds of names, but he doesn’t. He can't. “You won't go after anyone. You are graduating next year, you focus on getting into a good university, because let me tell you,” Loki makes to move closer to him but thinks better of it. He stabs his finger at him, “if you fuck up your chance because of a petty fight, I will be the one going after you.”

Thor takes a deep breath, his lips a thin line, squinting his eyes. Oh if he wants to have a screaming match right now, Loki will deliver.

But the door rips open, a wild looking teacher scans the room, her big eyes behind big red-rimmed glasses focusing on Thor instantly. Her hair is a mess.

“You,” she says to Thor, stepping in and holding the door wide open, “come with me.”

Thor sighs as he pushes himself from the sink, and goes to her. He towers over her easily. In the summer last year he shot up almost seven inches, constantly groaning about the pain in his limbs, Loki constantly telling him to stop his whining.

Thor lets the teacher go before him, ever the gentleman, Loki almost rolls his eyes, but then he turns back to Loki and asks with this mouth pulling to a lopsided smile, apologetic and incorrigible, “tonight?”

His teeth are still bloody, for Christ’s sake. “Tonight.”

 

 

Loki gently tips his bike over into the bushes circling around a big oak tree, careful to avoid Frigga’s roses by a wide berth. Once Thor fell into them face first, so drunk he didn’t even feel the little cuts on his skin until Loki screamed – also piss drunk – that he is bleeding. The aftermath with Frigga was definitely not pleasant.

Loki tiptoes through the garden, the night blanketing him in darkness, and goes around the ridiculously big house until he gets under Thor’s balcony. Thor has his small lamp on inside, and he can see the flickering of the TV partly lightning up the balcony.

Loki eyes the tree beside him, then fishes out his phone from his back pocket.

“ _Here”_ , he hits send.

He is rolling up the sleeves of his T-shirt around his shoulders so he won't get caught in the branches when he hears Thor open his balcony door, but he doesn’t look up, just adjust his backpack, pats his phone in his pocket, and starts climbing the tree.

The tricky thing is that the tree is actually too short and a bit far from the balcony for Loki to make it up there on his own, so Thor has to lean over the railing, and pull up Loki until he can get his footing on the edge of the balcony, then push himself over the railing.

Loki hears Thor hum and he glances up at him through the leaves as he is climbing over a thick branch, seeing that idiot resting his arms on the railing, smiling down at him, the light coming from behind him smudging the edges of his body.

Loki scoots along the branch that reaches the furthest, and balances himself so he can stand up.

“Hey you,” greets him Thor quietly, extending his hand down to him. It's pretty bruised. Loki looks up at him distrustfully. He knows Thor would never let him fall, it's not that he doesn’t trust, but that Thor would say that it doesn’t hurt his battered hand when he pulls Loki’s full weight.

Thor must see it on his face because he huffs, “it's okay. Come here.” He wriggles his hand impatiently.

Loki breathes out through his nose, staring at Thor, but raises on his toes and grabs his hand.

Thor pulls him up no problem – just a few inches boost, and he is not even that high up, but it's always a rush, those moments – and he clambers over the railing, the bottles in his backpack clinking together slightly even with his hoodie wrapped around them. Well, Thor’s. He has been meaning to give it back to him for a while now.

He could write with small letters in a little black book the things he stole from Thor during the years, pieces of him strewn around in Loki’s room, memories Loki guards like a dragon its hoard of gold.

“Hey,” Thor says again, with a quiet smile, like they haven’t been holed up together in a school bathroom merely ten hours ago, the smell of his blood curling around their necks like a loosened noose.

Loki thinks maybe he shouldn’t have come.

“Hey,” Loki mutters, his arm brushing Thor’s as he steps around him into his room.

It's a small disaster as always, Thor’s interests laying bare, picked up and tossed away once he got bored. It's so easy for him to immerse himself into things, into _people_ , but then just as quickly he moves on, sees something entirely new, and the circle repeats itself, a snake eating its own tail.

Sometimes Loki is there when Thor gets that glittering in his eyes, when he suddenly starts hungering for something that will be his in only a matter of time, and those times he wonders when will the time come when Thor discards him too, tosses him under his bed to collect dust. He hasn’t yet.

Loki kicks off his sneakers, and wrestles off his backpack by the balcony door while Thor closes it with a soft click.

“It never gets old watching you scale that tree,” says Thor sitting down on his bed, and Loki can hear the laughter in his voice.

Loki looks at him, response ready on his tongue, but then he sees him in the light.

It's fucked up. Loki leaves his backpack behind as he walks to Thor, raking his eyes over his face, the lamp from Thor’s bedside table throwing it into a calm shadow, and everything around them is glowing in muted yellow, but Thor’s face. It's bruised as all hell, angry black and purple everywhere.

Three guys were needed to get him looking like this.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” says Thor when he sees Loki stop in front of him, his smile faltering, his eyes opening wider, “The bruises will fade after a week or so, it's nothing, Loki – ”

He abruptly stops when Loki drops to his knees in front of him, and grabs his face so he can look at it better.

“Oh my God,” whispers Loki, but he can feel his voice rising, “you got fucking stitches in your eyebrow,” he moves Thor’s head this way and that, trying to see better in the light.

“Yeah, but –”

“How many?” he asks, staring at the black thread cutting through Thor’s skin, trying to count around the edges.

“What? I don’t know, not much–”

“Why isn’t it covered up?” speaks over him Loki. This fucking _idiot_. “Did you take the bandage off?”

Thor scowls over his shoulder, his jaw tightening under Loki’s palms, “It annoyed me.”

Loki lets him go and squeezes his knees, feeling Thor’s old grey sweatpants soft and worn, “I’m so angry with you,” he waits until Thor looks back down at him, “but you know what, I don’t care, because I know _you_ don’t care what I think.”

Thor looks hurt. Good.

“Don’t say that.”

“It's the truth,” replies Loki.

Thor’s phone pings into the silence. Thor makes no move to reach for it, staring down at Loki defiant, but Loki just pats his knee and stands up, his legs prickling from sitting on them. He hears Thor sigh and unlock his phone as he drags his backpack closer to them and starts zipping it open.

They could sit here forever, talking this whole business over until they both run dry, they still wouldn’t come to an agreement. Where Loki’s patience ends, starts Thor’s stubbornness.

“Who’s that?” Loki asks when he sees Thor typing.

Thor shrugs, already tossing his phone back into the bed, “Just a girl, she wanted to know if I’m okay.”

Loki hums as he unwraps the hoodie from around the bottles, trying to free it from his bag, but it catches on the zipper. He yanks hard, “Is she nice?”

Thor props his elbow on his knee and leans his chin into his palm, watching Loki struggle, “Nice enough, I guess.”

 _Nice enough_ means cute and bubbly, pink lip gloss and long lashes. _Nice enough_ means Thor doesn’t really care about her, but she would be good for a fuck, Loki knows this much. He doesn’t like thinking about Thor like this, when he hasn’t even had his first kiss yet.

He finally frees the hoodie, drops it beside his leg, then starts pulling out the bottles, lining them up on the carpet.

“Your beer, your another beer, and,” he pulls out the third and last bottle, all pink and red, “your disgusting sugary poison.”

Loki will never know how can Thor drink it, it tastes like cherry syrup with three table spoons of sugar with an additional two-point-twenty percent alcohol slapped on the label in curly letters. It's ridiculous.

Thor’s face lights up, “All for me?”

Loki nods, scooping them up and handing them over to Thor, their fingers touching for a moment, “All for you.”

“I thought you were angry,” Thor says amused, searching for the opener on his drawer. Loki drops on the bed beside him, and wriggles until his back hits the wall. He smoothes his hand over Thor’s blanket. The TV is still on, fixed up on the wall, on mute.

“I am. Doesn’t mean I can't try to make you feel better after getting a beating,” he says.

“Don’t say it like that,” Thor opens the beer with a hiss, and chugs it down, hand already reaching for the next one. He always saves his favourite for last.

“So,” Loki pokes Thor’s thigh with his toes, “what’s the verdict?”

Thor picks at his second bottle, smiling bitterly, “Mom said she won't tell Dad, and that I should be glad he won't be home for at least two weeks.”

Loki isn’t really surprised. “That bad, huh?”

Thor offers him his drink but Loki shakes his head.

“Yeah, I’m grounded until he comes home. No car, either.”

Looks like Loki will be climbing trees a lot for the next two weeks.

Thor peels off the label from his beer, rolling it between his fingers, the sticky side clinging to them, “She,… uh, she wants to talk to you, too.”

Loki’s whole body tightens up, “I didn’t tell you to go at them.”

Thor looks at him offended, “I told her that.”

“You were not even supposed to know about them,” Loki says, betraying himself too. He didn’t want Thor to know. Not like it matters anything now.

“I told her that too, Loki, you can be sure about that,” says Thor dryly, turning away from him, drinking the rest of his beer. His arm flexes as he holds the bottle tighter, his profile sharp against the dim colors of the room.

Loki knew exactly, feared, that this would happen, and Thor has the gall to be mad at him.

“I should go,” he says, because he shouldn’t even be here. He shouldn’t have come. He should have put some distance between them, wait out those two weeks at least.

Thor reaches over and puts his hand on his ankle, squeezes, “You just got here.”

Sometimes when Thor touches him, Loki thinks he can feel how so much more Thor is, than him. How much clearer it becomes with every day, that he is not someone Thor will want in his life. Thor will outgrow this room that Loki has known since he was seven and Thor nine, he will outgrow this big house with his mother inside it with her fond smiles and smart eyes, with his father almost never inside it, demanding in his absence, demanding in his presence, this town with its street that they know like the back of their hands because they have been scraping their knees on the hot asphalt every summer like they forgot how much it hurt the last time.

How selfishly Loki wants to take every remaining second he has with Thor, until Thor realises all this.

“Okay,” he says, “okay.”

Thor finishes his beer with his hand still on Loki’s ankle, the tip of his fingers slipping under his jeans, only releasing him when he opens his pink drink.

Thor sees him make a face, “come on, it's not that bad,” he says after taking a big swig, licking his lips.

“It’s exactly that bad,” retorts Loki.

Loki barely has time to stifle his yelp when Thor, drink still in one hand, grabs his leg and pulls him fast down the bed, his back sliding against the wall behind him, then his head hitting the pillows.

Thor looms over him with his smile crinkling the edges of his blue, blue eyes, “Maybe you just don’t have a refined taste for these things.”

“Oh, I must be missing out on so much,” Loki says bored, flicking his hair from his face. He tries to free his leg, “let me go.”

Thor slides his hand under his calf and brings it higher, almost level with his shoulder, “No, I caught you,” he drinks again then puts his almost empty bottle on the bedside drawer. He turns back to Loki, “you are being so skittish tonight, there is no way I’m letting you go. You would jump out the balcony the first chance you get.”

Loki’s sniffs, “my leg is cramping.”

Thor rubs his leg with his thumb, smiling wide, “liar, we both know you can take more than this.” Thor puts Loki’s leg on his shoulder, resting his warm palm on his knee, “you are like a cat.”

Damn him, Loki thinks, casted in Thor’s shadow, feeling the width of his shoulder under his leg, firm and strong. Damn him, Loki thinks, looking up into his eyes that always find him in the hallways, even when he doesn’t want to be found.

Loki reaches out on the bed until his hand finds Thor’s, palm down on the bedsheets, and skims his fingers over his bruised knuckles, up until he can close his fingers around his thick wrist.

“I told you I would stay a little, Thor.”

Loki pretends not to see when something passes through Thor eyes. He saw it a few times, only directed at him, it's not new. He is still not brave enough to ask Thor about it, so he pretended every time, so he pretends now. He pretends not to notice the shiver in his own body.

Being in Thor’s sole focus is empowering and unnerving and it's something Loki knows he will be addicted to for the rest of his life, so in that sense, he is already ruined. Loki imagines this is what it must feel like to live close to the sea.

He takes a shaky breath, trying to fill his lungs, and Thor’s eyes flick away from his face, down to his body, and when he looks into his eyes again, Loki knows he saw the tremor going through him.

Thor’s phone pings again, three times. Loki snatches his hand away, and Thor curses. Still, he gently lowers Loki’s leg back to the bed, runs his hand down the length of it as he lets him go. Loki closes his eyes for a moment, feeling like he just came up from underwater.

“Go have a chat with that girl, it's time for me to go anyway,” he starts to sit up, but Thor pushes him down.

“No, I don’t want to. I will shake her off,” he says, finding his phone under one of the pillows and unlocking it, already typing something.

Thor stands up while writing, and after finishing he searches around his desk until he finds his charger and plugs his phone in. His old sweats pull on his legs, barely reaching his ankle. They must be a few years old, if Loki remembers right. He looks so stupid.

Thor turns off the standing lamp near his door then goes back to Loki and turns off his bedside lamp on the drawer. The dark would close in on them if not for the TV still flickering on, mute, but now it's playing some old movie, all black and white and grey with dress shoes and big diamonds and guns. Dog eat dog world between the skyscrapers.

Loki looks back up at Thor when he starts taking off his shirt, “what are you doing?”

His voice comes out a little too high at the end.

Thor crumples his shirt into a ball and Loki sees him squeezing it tight between his hands, the light coming from the TV casting deep shadows on him as he looks down at Loki with a small smile, “I’m tired, Lo.”

Loki watches Thor throw his shirt on the floor and climb in bed, trying to think of a hundred different reasons why he should just scramble home. Then Thor pokes him on the ribs, tells him to move, and when they are trying to rearrange themselves Thor automatically gives Loki one of his pillows, the one that is Loki’s favourite, and Loki sees him do it in such an unconscious way it leaves him reeling. A rare glimpse of the warm intimacy that Loki wishes he could grab and steal too, could put it on his own nightstand and bask in its glow on the sleepless nights that are more and more frequent.

It hurts Loki in all kinds of way, but he gives up trying to come up with an excuse. He doesn’t want to go home yet. He doesn’t want to go.

They don’t really fit in Thor’s bed as they did when they were smaller, but after some scuffling and shoving, knees knocking, legs tangling together, they make it work. They always make it work.

They end up curled toward each other, Thor’s hand is on Loki’s back, against the wall, and he fastens his hold when Loki tries to reach down to his pocket, “I’m just setting an alarm, Jesus,” hisses Loki, wriggling his arm free, “I don’t want us falling asleep, I have school tomorrow, unlike you.”

Thor grins at him. Loki sets the alarm to thirty minutes, then he feels Thor run his palm on his back down and up, slowly, catching on Loki’s shirt.

Loki sighs and sets the timer to forty-five minutes, and Thor still makes an unsatisfied noise, his face lit up by the phone as he peers down at it, “that’s not much.”

“It's already too much,” replies Loki immediately, rising on an elbow to reach over Thor and put his phone beside his. He figured Thor would complain, “I still have to get home and–”

He almost jumps out of the bed when Thor blows a raspberry on his neck, his mouth wet and warm on his skin, and in his shock he tries to get away, accidentally smacking Thor on his ear, “Fuck, Thor, fuck you–”

Thor slams his hand on his mouth, “Shhh, shh. Mom will hear you shrieking.”

Loki shakes him off, glaring at Thor’s smug face. “I was not shrieking.”

“Mhm.” Thor settles him down, resting his palm down on his back again, stroking him like he is trying to console a huffy pet. God, Loki hates him.

“I will get you back,” says Loki, trying to cling to the last shreds of his pride.

“Oh, I know,” Thor laughs softly, his teeth glinting white in the light of the TV, “I can't wait.”

Loki suddenly sees him again, back in the bathroom, when he turned to him with his mouth still full of blood, coating his teeth like he just ripped out someone's heart. Tonight. Loki grabs the edge of his pillow.

“I heard they all got suspended,” it tumbles out of him in a breath. By the end of the day the whole school knew more or less what happened – of course they did, it was Thor – and Loki was a nervous jittery mess by then. He didn’t know what happened to Thor after he left with the teacher, he feared his injuries were worse than Thor said, he feared he got expelled, he feared Odin would finally have enough and take him out of school, telling Loki to stay away from them, from him forever.

Thor furrows his brows for a moment, “Who–, oh,” he shrugs, “they had it coming.”

“Butch is in your team, Thor,” says Loki, exasperated. Was - he got kicked out, Loki supposes. How does Thor not see what he did.

“Well, I never liked him,” says Thor curtly.

“You can't go burning bridges around you, just because–”

“What? Just because you?” cuts in Thor, his face hardening. He shuffles on the bed annoyed, but he hasn’t got much room to move, jostles Loki too, “like you wouldn’t have done the same in my place.”

Loki evens out his voice, “that’s different.”

“No, Loki, no. _You_ want it to be different.”

It is different, Loki could afford himself to burn up everything around him, he wouldn’t be risking anything. He is not a trust-fund kid. He is nothing.

He stares defiantly over Thor’s shoulder, following the play of flickering lights on the wall, and Thor just scoffs, “Yeah, you are right, I should have just let one of your new friends handle them.”

Loki snaps his gaze at him, “What, you have a problem with them?”

Of course Thor already knows about them. Loki’s more than rowdy acquaintances from around. Not from school.

“Aren’t exactly the type I would introduce to the parents.”

Fuck Thor, Loki thinks, for thinking he knows what’s best for Loki. Fuck Thor, for still, even when they are like this, keeping Loki grounded with him, his hand on Loki’s back, his arm heavy over Loki.

“I have to keep myself entertained while you get your dick wet in your car,” sneers Loki, thoroughly enjoying the faint angry flush on Thor’s cheek. It mixes with his bruises.

Thor turns his head away with a deep inhale, staring at the TV for a few moments. Loki can see him work his jaw. He must be biting at his tongue again. Bad habits.

Thor turns back to him, his eyes searching Loki’s, delicately prying Loki’s hand from the pillow to take it in his. Loki lets him in his shock. The summery-warmth from his palm seeps into Loki’s as he holds the back of Loki’s hand to his chest. Loki can feel his heart beating deep and strong.

“I’m sorry, okay?” says Thor gently, “I’m sorry. I understand why you are angry, but you have to understand why I couldn’t just not do anything.”

Thor interlaces their fingers, “and I don’t want to argue with you over any of them. They are not important.”

Loki can count on one hand the times someone said sorry to him. He is almost sure all of them were Thor. Loki can't help teasing him, “What do you want us to argue about then?”

“The usual stuff, you know. You, me. We are important to me, the rest is just…” smiles back at him Thor, not finishing.

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence, Loki knows what he means. He knows exactly. The white-noise vacuum that was born between them the minute they met each other, and without them realizing it slowly grew and swelled, swallowing their surroundings up inch after inch, only leaving them alive, blind and deaf to the emptiness around them.

Loki looks at Thor’s boyish face that started to sharpen as he grows into his body, sees the handsome lines of his smile, his slightly crooked nose that healed wrong after he broke it, and can feel the vacuum still growing around them, even now. They will be left in total emptiness, just the two of them. All because they can't turn away from each other.

That Thor feels this too leaves Loki like he just jumped off a swing right when it reached so high all he could see was the sky.

He can't help scooting even closer to Thor, chasing after the warmth from his palm, wanting to feel it everywhere, “Yeah, okay,” he exhales, ducking their hands under his chin, pressing his smile into the bed.

Thor knocks his head into his, “are we okay?”

What a stupid question. “We are okay.”

“Good,” gives Thor a satisfied sigh, running his hand over Loki’s back, up to this shoulder blades, slowly, so slowly, then his way ends at Loki’s nape, his fingers brushing Loki’s small hair.

Loki’s skin tingles with goosebumps.

“I thought about this all day after the teacher came to get me,” murmurs Thor.

“What?”

Thor slips his hand further into Loki’s hair, “I don’t know. You. Being here.”

“I’ve been here a thousand times already, it's nothing new,” says Loki looking up at him, and even he hears the fondness in his voice.

Thor smiles like he can't help it, “Yeah, no need to tell me. Me thinking about you a lot isn’t exactly new either.” His breath smells like cherry.

“Doesn’t sound like it bothers you that much,” Loki frees his hand from Thor’s just so he has something to do with himself, because he might be close to vibrating out of his skin. He touches Thor’s jaw. The few hairs there Thor’s been so proud of ever since he decided he will grow out his stubble.

Thor leans closer until their noses bump, “I like thinking about you. You may be my favourite thing to think about.”

This impossible boy.

Loki’s eyes fall shut from the sudden dizziness. “Thor–”

“Let me?” asks Thor, tipping up Loki’s chin, his hand like a brand on Loki’s neck. And then, with his lips hot on Loki’s cheek, “Please.”

Thor is kissing him before he reaches the end of yes.

A soft press of lips, but Loki swears his heart bursts in his chest, and he would have recoiled from the sparks firing off through his whole body if not for Thor holding him with sure hand at the back of his head.

Thor presses closer with a content sigh, nudging Loki to roll onto his back, Thor following him until he is half on top of him, and Loki never, ever wants to leave from under him. He slowly runs his palms up to Thor’s shoulders, unsure, feeling his skin smooth and warm, but when he feels Thor’s mouth pull into a smile against his, Loki knows immediately that it's okay. He can touch.

“Open,” murmurs Thor against his mouth, framing Loki’s face in his big hand, his thumb grazing Loki’s lower lip. Loki opens.

Thor licks into his mouth, and Loki gasps, holding onto Thor. He started shivering all over, and Thor muffles a thankful sound that escaped him when Thor reached up to slowly stroke Loki’s arm still clinging around his neck. It calms him down, burns him up.

Loki breaks the kiss, trying to breathe, “You taste like antiseptic,” he whispers, but it comes out off, Thor kissing him silent with a distracted hum.

Thor settles his weight down on Loki more, skimming his hands down Loki’s arms, grabbing at the sides of his chest, then lower over his stomach, under his shirt, pushing it up, splaying his fingers over his bare torso like he is trying to map out Loki just by touch alone. Loki feels himself trying to stretch out under Thor’s fingers, trying to offer himself, trying to give, to give.

Running his hands down onto Thor’s chest, eager and greedy, then slides his hands around his body, his waist, the dip of his spine, all perfect and hard lines, with barely any baby fat left from Thor’s younger years, and Loki whimpers at the thought how strong and whole Thor will be in five, ten years.

How he watched him fill out more and more the past years.

Thor suddenly takes his hand off of him, reaching to the side of the bed, still clinging to Loki with his other hand, kissing the side of Loki’s mouth, his chin, his cheek, but then there is a hard thump, then another, and Thor sits up from Loki hurriedly, “Shit, sorry, sorry–”

Loki opens his eyes, still a little dazed, and looks over to Thor, who moved to the side of the bed, looking down on the floor, picking something up.

“What–” Loki starts to asks, but his voice breaks awkwardly so he shuts up. He hears the buzzing now. His alarm.  He didn’t even hear it before.

“I knocked off your phone too, sorry,” comes up Thor, sitting to face Loki, pressing the button on Loki’s phone to silence it.

Thor looks up to him with a flushed face, his eyes blown black and shining, inviting, happy and hungry. Loki swallows.

“It's okay,” he says, sitting up, the flutter of his shirt tickling his skin as it falls back over him. Thor’s gaze follows it then he looks back to Loki’s face.

Thor leans closer to him, holding out his phone, murmuring, “here.”

Loki shuffles to his knees to take it, and this close he can feel the warmth radiating off from Thor, making him crave it all over again, and before he could stop himself he is already sliding his hands over his shoulders, burying his hands into his hair, and Thor grips him around his waist, the phone dropped, time forgotten, everything cast aside, again, again.

Thor tips him back, his hand settling on the small of his waist, deepening the kiss. Making it wet and messy. Loki parts his legs for Thor because all he can think about is that he wants him closer, and feels the burning path of Thor’s hand as he runs it down his side, down all the way to his thigh.

When Thor squeezes him there, hitching his leg up higher around his waist Loki sucks in a breath with a small whimper, and Thor suddenly bolts up, scrambling away from Loki, out from the bed.

Thor takes a few uneasy steps back, clearing his throat, smiling apologetic at Loki, “it's late.”

Something hot coils inside Loki’s chest hearing Thor’s voice like this, deeper, darker. Caring.

“I know,” he answers, a bit sullen. Wishes he didn’t. He also wishes Thor would stop looking at him like that.

Thor huffs out a laugh, crossing his arms, then uncrossing them, stuffing them into his pockets.

“It's not…” Thor starts, raking his eyes over Loki then blinking them away from him to stare at the wall, shuffling on his feet. “I really, really hate being the responsible one now, believe me.”

Thor glances at him with a helpless smile, his flush still high on his cheeks, and Loki is utterly, horribly, stupidly charmed. It's scary. It's _exhilarating._

Loki finds his phone between the sheets and climbs out from the bed, already searching for his bag, laughing, “Oh, I know.”

He grabs and stuffs Thor’s hoodie back into his bag, zipping it shut. He is taking it back with himself, he decided. Thor watched him through it all, hands still deep in his pockets and his open stare makes it hard for Loki to perform even simple tasks, like tying his fucking shoelaces. He messed up twice.

“Can you not,” he asks Thor.

Thor shrugs at him with a grin, like he is not doing anything.

Loki rolls his eyes as he stands up, reaching for Thor’s pink drink and chugs the remaining down. It's still absolutely disgusting, “Come on, Mr. Responsible.”

Thor opens the balcony door for him, still grinning, “I knew you would come to like it,” he says, following after Loki.

The night air feels fresh and sobering to Loki, late summer lingering, but autumn is just around the corner. The flowers around the house are heavy with the last drops of nectar, and the tree near the balcony shakes its leaves in the breeze.

Loki hops on the thick marble railing, his legs dangling. It’s almost as wide as a bench.

Thor steps in front of Loki, leaning his hands on the railing beside Loki’s thighs, and Loki’s skin prickles from the proximity. They are the same height like this.

“I hate it when you leave,” Thor mutters.

“Shouldn’t call me over in the first place, then,” Loki responds casually, reaching up to skim his fingers over Thor’s neck, down to the center of his chest. Out in the night his skin looks like it might be cold to the touch, but it's not. It still burns Loki.

Thor shakes his head, leaning in, “No good, I’d die.”

Loki sighs into the kiss. It's so strange, the contrast. The chill of the night caressing his face, his arms, and then there is Thor, with all his warmth in his kisses, the press of his full mouth sure, nothing like the shy breeze. But soon Loki forgets about that too, only Thor, Thor.

Loki feels him sneak a hand between his backpack and his back, wrapping his arm securely around Loki. He is always worrying about Loki falling off.

Thor keeps it short and sweet, his lips shiny when they part, and Loki licks his own lips. All he can taste now are cherry and sugar.

“Text me when you get home, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Loki nods. Eight out of ten times, when Loki texts him after getting home they end up texting at least an hour, and they both regret it the next day in school. His night visits don’t line up good with getting up in the morning.

Thor nuzzles his face, “how about tomorrow?”

“It's past midnight, Thor. It's already tomorrow,” Loki’s breath catches when Thor moves down to his neck, his light stubble grazing Loki’s skin. He is sure Thor feels his pulse jump.

Thor pulls back to look at him, his smile promising Loki everything and anything, “Tonight then?”

“Tonight.”

And the night after that, and the night after that, and–

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little follow up
> 
> \- Frigga absolutely, a hundred percent knows Loki keeps sneaking in on some nights, and her first clue was that whenever Thor got grounded he went to bed sulking and each time came down in the morning happy and giddy and it was SUSPICIOUS as hell  
> \- she doesn't mind it she loves Loki to bits  
> \- Thor learnt how to communicate his feelings and how to properly apologize from his mother, that boy has high emotional intelligence woowee  
> \- Romeo and Juliet balcony scene just saying  
> \- they still need to learn how to be in love and all that comes with it
> 
> tell me how did u like the fic I'm always so curious! thank u so much for reading ily


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